Søren Kierkegaard Quotes

A collection of quotes by Søren Kierkegaard.

Søren Kierkegaard was a Danish philosopher, theologian, and writer, born on May 5, 1813, in Copenhagen. He is often regarded as one of the most influential thinkers of the 19th century and is considered the father of existentialism. Despite his significant contributions to philosophy, Kierkegaard's life was relatively uneventful.

Kierkegaard came from a wealthy and conservative family, with his father insisting he study theology, which greatly influenced his later works. He obtained his degree in theology from the University of Copenhagen in 1840 but showed little interest in becoming a traditional clergyman. Instead, he dedicated himself to writing and published numerous philosophical and religious texts.

His writings primarily focused on the individual's struggle to find meaning and authenticity in a world of societal conformity and norms. Kierkegaard's works often revolved around concepts like faith, ethics, existential angst, and the individual's relationship with God. Some of his most notable books include "Either/Or," "Fear and Trembling," and "The Sickness Unto Death."

Throughout his life, Kierkegaard was known for his reclusive nature and reserved personality. He lived a rather solitary existence, rarely venturing far from his hometown. He passed away at the age of 42 on November 11, 1855, leaving behind a profound legacy in philosophy and theology.

It was as easy as breathing to go and have tea near the place where Jane Austen had so wittily scribbled and so painfully died. One of the things that causes some critics to marvel at Miss Austen is the laconic way in which, as a daughter of the epoch that saw the Napoleonic Wars, she contrives like a Greek dramatist to keep it off the stage while she concentrates on the human factor. I think this comes close to affectation on the part of some of her admirers. Captain Frederick Wentworth in , for example, is partly of interest to the female sex because of the 'prize' loot he has extracted from his encounters with Bonaparte's navy. Still, as one born after Hiroshima I can testify that a small Hampshire township, however large the number of names of the fallen on its village-green war memorial, is more than a world away from any unpleasantness on the European mainland or the high or narrow seas that lie between. (I used to love the detail that Hampshire's 'New Forest' is so called because it was only planted for the hunt in the late eleventh century.) I remember watching with my father and brother through the fence of Stanstead House, the Sussex mansion of the Earl of Bessborough, one evening in the early 1960s, and seeing an immense golden meadow carpeted entirely by grazing rabbits. I'll never keep that quiet, or be that still, again.This was around the time of countrywide protest against the introduction of a horrible laboratory-confected disease, named 'myxomatosis,' into the warrens of old England to keep down the number of nibbling rodents. Richard Adams's lapine masterpiece is the remarkable work that it is, not merely because it evokes the world of hedgerows and chalk-downs and streams and spinneys better than anything since , but because it is only really possible to imagine gassing and massacre and organized cruelty on this ancient and green and gently rounded landscape if it is organized and carried out against herbivores.

Christopher Hitchens